Emeralds in the Clouds
by Intimate Diplomat
Summary: Maybe some people are just born evil. - First time, please review -
1. Prologue

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

Prologue

Lain was busying herself by organizing the books that lay on the table next to her desk. The longer she could keep her mind off of the disaster, the better off she would be. Concentrating with all her might she failed to notice the footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor behind her.

"Hello Lain."

She started, dropping her books and whirling around wildly.

"Tom."

And so it began again. All the memories she had tried so hard to forget came rushing back in one agonizing instant. She stepped backward several paces out of fear.

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave me alone." Her desperate attempt to sound bold failed utterly as her voice climbed higher than usual.

Tom smiled. "You are not pleased to see me?"

"How could I possibly be pleased to see a murderer?" The words felt like acid on her tongue, but they were the truth, and she knew that she had to convey the message to Tom before he was convinced he had a chance to claim her again. She could no longer help him, and she had to make him realize this.

"I have a proposition for you," said Tom. "You must hear me out."

"I don't have to do anything, Tom. I told you. There is nothing I can do for you anymore. You are on a path I cannot take." Despite her emotionless disposition, Lain felt tears welling up in her eyes, and her throat tightened with a sharp pain. No, she thought, I couldn't possibly be crying - not for this fool.

"Lain, you are indispensable to me. You cannot possibly understand why I need you yet, but in time you will. All of my servants have their purposes, but your importance goes beyond what they can give me."

"Servant?" Lain spat, anger showing in her moist eyes. "Is that what you think I am? One of your pathetic servants?" Her sadness vanished instantly and was replaced by a furiousness that ripped through her stomach like a knife. "I do not worship the ground you walk on. I do not follow your every word as if you are a prophet. I am not fooled by your rhetoric, Tom. And you can kill me if you so choose but know this: you will never get it right. If you think immortality is so important that you destroy all you have to live for, then you will suffer, Tom, even if you do succeed. Trust me."

Silence followed Lain's speech, broken only by her harsh breathing. Tom looked at Lain for a long while with a face she could not discern. It seemed... but it couldn't be. There was pain on his face.

"You don't understand, Lain. I never wanted immortality for myself. Everything I've done, all my efforts... it has been for you."

Lain's anger was gone, replaced only by confusion.


	2. Clouds

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

I. Clouds

It was a beautiful day in London. A massive crowd had gathered in Trafalgar Square to celebrate the summer holiday, and thousands of people lined the edge of the street carrying balloons and hoisting children on their shoulders. A parade made its way through the crowd as young war veterans threw flowers to the women that caught their eye.

In an alley off the main street a fourteen-year-old girl sat on the stoop in front of her flat, staring up at the brilliantly blue sky. She was aware of the commotion, but the din that carried down the alley bothered her little. It was summer break, and Lain was happy to be home from school, even just for a few weeks. Though she admired the beauty and majesty of Hogwarts Castle and its surrounding scenery, she always had a soft spot for the city she called home.

At the end of the alley sat a large, depressing orphanage that Lain felt was a blight on her neighborhood. She knew many of the children there, having grown up playing with them. But she could never bring herself to go into the orphanage or talk to its residents about the place. Thinking of it always gave her a chill. After all, she was overwhelmingly grateful for her mother, who was her best friend. She couldn't bear to think what it would be like to lose her, and to be placed in such a disparate, isolating hovel as the orphanage.

As she stared at the small sliver of sky she could see between the tall buildings lining the alley, she heard the rustle of footsteps approaching. Looking over she saw three large, brutish boys coming at her, smirks on their faces. Inwardly she braced herself. This was Chunny, the orphanage bully, and she did not feel like dealing with him today.

"What do you want Chun?" she asked.

"Oh you know, just to bother you until you run crying. The usual."

"I'm not in the mood today Chun. Why don't you bother someone else?"

"Because you're fun to bother. You get so angry sometimes we can see a vein in your forehead." The boys that flanked either side of Chunny guffawed awkwardly.

Lain knew that Chunny liked her, but his way of showing it was horribly pathetic. He picked on her like they were seven or eight years old. But she knew how to make him mad, and when he was mad Chunny got dangerous. He was known to beat up a fair few kids in the past and Lain was well aware of when she crossed the line.

But today she wasn't going to let anything bother her.

"Well Brain? Are you gonna go cwying to mummy?" Chunny said after a moment's silence.

"At least I have a mother," Lain replied. This was a low blow, but she didn't care. Chunny deserved it.

"You BITCH!" he said, shaking with anger and balling his fists. "I'll KILL you!"

Lain sighed. "No you won't, Chunny. We both know you can't touch me."

"Want a bet?" Without warning Chunny lunged at Lain's face. She leaned out of the way and without thinking to look, pulled out her wand. With a loud bang Chunny was thrown against the wall of the opposite flat and slumped to the ground, unconscious. The other two boys stared at Lain, who had already hidden her wand. With screams they began to run back toward the orphanage as fast as they could go.

Lain knew it was dangerous to do magic outside school, but she was not going to let anyone think they could control her. She hated the feeling of being in danger, being at the whim of another person - especially someone as brainless as Chunny.

Lain had turned her eyes back up to the sky again when she heard a quiet, low voice right beside her.

"You have a wand."

She jumped, whirling around in fright. "What did you say?"

He was a tall, handsome boy about her age. He had dark hair, beautiful brown eyes and a face that was all at once curious, demanding, and brooding. Lain thought for a second that he looked like he was about to go insane.

"I said you have a wand. I saw it. Let me see it again."

She pulled out her wand, stunned at the forcefulness in the boy's voice.

"I knew it. You're a witch."

"So?" Lain was not going to let this strange boy bother her either. Though he was attractive, and her cheeks flushed in betrayal at the thought of this, she could never let her emotions get the better of her. That was how she always was. "How do you know about witches?"

"I'm a wizard," the boy replied with unmistakable pride. "Do you go to Hogwarts?" His eyes were mad with curiosity.

"Yes. I'm a Ravenclaw."

"I never saw you there before."

"I like to stay out of the way. Have you always lived here? I never saw _you_ here before..."

The boy was quiet. After a while he said, "I live there." He jabbed his thumb at the dilapidated orphanage behind him. "I like to stay out of the way," he added with a smirk.

Lain laughed. The boy looked suddenly startled. "What?" he demanded.

"Are you anti-social? I know almost every kid that lives in that orphanage and I have never met you. You must really not have any friends."

Silence followed Lain's comment. She felt bad for what she said, but the boy had not exactly been very friendly, either. She broke the quiet. "I'm sorry. My name is Lain. I live here." she held out her hand to shake. The boy did not respond. Lain lowered her hand, annoyed.

The boy turned around and stared at the orphanage for a long minute. Still with his back to Lain he said, "my name is Tom. I'm a Slytherin. I can't wait to go back..."

All at once Lain became aware that the boy Tom felt the same way about the orphanage that she did - only he _lived_ there. She felt the pain in his voice and the sadness it carried. It made her almost want to reach out and hug him. Feeling stupid, she decided to focus on Hogwarts.

"Yeah I'm excited to go back too. Do you want to take a walk?" Feeling bad for the initial attitude she gave Tom, she decided to make him a friend. It seemed to her like he really needed one.

"Alright," he replied, throwing one more disgusted glance back at the orphanage.

"So," Lain said after they had left the alleyway and began to walk down the street, which had cleared of parade-watchers, "tell me about yourself."

"Why?" Tom asked.

"Well you don't have to. I just thought maybe we could be friends."

"Oh." Tom glanced quickly at Lain and looked away. "I'm an orphan."

Lain could not suppress a giggle. "Well," she said, "I kind of gathered that, what with you living in the orphanage and all. I mean, where are you from, was your family filled with wizards, and what kind of stuff do you like to do? You know, the kind of questions new acquaintances ask each other."

"I doubt many acquaintances ask about familial wizarding history."

"Fine," Lain said, annoyed. "I'll start with an easy one. What is your whole name?"

"Tom Riddle," Tom said with obvious disgust.


	3. Bullying the Bully

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

II. Bullying the Bully

Tom didn't need anyone, least of all the pathetic muggles that wasted the space around him in the orphanage. He hated this place for numerous reasons, but what stood out to him the most was how mediocre everything was. He felt as if he was stuck in a quagmire of stupidity from which he could not free himself. He believed – no, he _knew_ – that he was destined for something far greater than this.

The visit from Professor Dumbledore three years ago confirmed in his mind that he was meant for more; that he was special. Dumbledore came to him, only him, bringing with him a life-changing experience. Not only was Tom the bearer of a great and powerful gift – one that he gained control of unbelievably quickly and didn't hesitate to use for his own ends – but he was given the chance to leave the orphanage and go to a school meant only for people as special as him.

After three years of education at Hogwarts, Tom had changed completely, a fact known only to him. While he spent the first years of his life despised by the children around him, all the while growing angry and resentful, he could only dream of the day that he would get back at them all. Fear was his weapon, and as he developed the magic he didn't know he had, he realized that with fear, people would listen to him. Only through fear could he rise above those around him and be taken seriously. So it was this purpose that focused Tom's fledgling magic: he became a bully, a traumatizer. And he liked it.

But at Hogwarts, there was no need for fear. At Hogwarts he was just like everyone else. He no longer felt the need to rise above, to be separate and distinct. He was where he should be; he was home. And yet the fear of mediocrity was replaced in him by a feeling of inadequacy. Would he be good enough? Would he be able to understand all of the things he learned about this new world? Could he measure up to those kids at Hogwarts that grew up around magic? How lucky they were – to have lived the life he always dreamed of. He felt robbed, forsaken.

Even so, Hogwarts was his home. He hated coming back to the orphanage for break, and every second he spent in his tiny, undecorated room made him yearn passionately for the warm, green and silver dorm with its too-soft pillows and snake-covered curtains. This summer was no exception. He was about to begin his fourth year, and kept himself out of his abysmal, depressing world by reading his textbooks adamantly. It was out of pure discomfort – eyestrain and headache from reading – that he decided to wander outside for air. Sitting on the stoop in front of the orphanage, he saw the unmistakable sign of someone doing magic – a wand. His curiosity spiked immediately. Could there really be another wizard so close to him?

Never thinking he needed anyone for anything, Tom was impossible to befriend. Very rarely did he take interest in others. But today, for the first time in his life, he was genuinely interested in Lain. She gave him something his dusty schoolbooks could not – a companion; someone like him, someone who shared his world. Despite his hesitation to talk to someone he did not know, he found himself inexplicably drawn to Lain. It was as if she was a light in the darkness that was his home.

"Are your family mostly wizards?" he asked quietly as they walked down the street.

"No," she replied. "My mother was totally surprised. But then, I don't know much about my father, so we both figured it came from his side."

Not having much experience with personal conversation, Tom's responses were driven by his curiosity. "Why don't you know your father?"

Lain hesitated. It took a while for Tom to realize the question had made her uncomfortable. What should he say? Did he make her angry? Trying to ignore the fact that his sudden concern for this person made him uncomfortable, he said, "I'm… sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay. My father walked out on us when I was seven. He was… not the nicest person."

"Oh."

They continued to wander aimlessly down the busy city sidewalk. In the silence that followed, Tom thought of what he could say. Never before had he cared at all about what other people thought, but now he found himself not only burning with curiosity, but fearful for the way he was conducting himself. His thoughts turned to school. "What is your favorite subject?" he asked.

"Well," Lain answered, rather enthusiastically, "I really like Defense Against the Dark Arts. I just started it last year – I'm a fourth year now, you know – and it's fascinating stuff. I know they tell us that dark wizards are bad and such, but I feel like any time someone tries to test the bounds of magic, you know, see what it can really do, they slap a "dark arts" label on it and wag their fingers. I kind of wish there wasn't so much of a stigma, you know? Oh, I also like Charms. Makes it dead easy for me to win fights with my mum."

Tom was utterly stunned. Not only was Lain proving to be an incredibly intelligent fourteen-year-old, but she had just expressed in perfect words exactly how he had felt. Could there really be a person that he might share his thoughts, his ideas with and not be afraid that she would run away screaming?

"I like Dark Arts too. I mean, Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's kind of easy, though. I wish it were more challenging."

"Me too," Lain said. "Just do what I do. Ask for permission to go to the restricted section for research, and find something juicy to read. Last year during Christmas Break I read a fabulously interesting book on Dark Magic in Asia. Fascinating."

"How old are you?" Tom asked suddenly.

Lain laughed. "I'm fourteen, like I said. Why?"

"No reason."

Abruptly, Tom stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk.

"What's wrong?" Lain asked, turning around to look at him.

Tom turned his back to her. He could feel his cheeks reddening. This was not good. He had to get away before he – did what? Acted human? Did something normal? Made a friend? Was it really so bad?

But yes it was. Friends are a burden. You become dependent upon their support and if Tom was anything, he was independent. Even if Lain understood him so much it was scary, he had to get away. He just didn't understand _why_ he felt he had to get away. "I have to go," he said hurriedly. With that, he turned around and walked quickly back the way they had come, leaving Lain staring behind him, a frown on her face.

As he sped back toward the orphanage, Tom wondered if perhaps it could be useful to have someone like Lain around. If indeed he was as skillful and gifted as everyone at school said he was, then maybe Lain could only help him. Maybe she could provide the support he didn't want to admit he needed. But that would require letting her in; giving her information about himself. This made him feel vulnerable. Perhaps she wasn't as smart as he thought she was, anyway. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe she didn't even have the intelligence to think about him half as intensely as he was thinking about her at this very moment.

Maybe she did.


	4. Psychoanalysis

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

III. Psychoanalysis

Lain thought long and hard about Tom and wondered what could have made him so upset that he felt he had to run away from her. Had she said something offensive? It was apparent that Tom was extremely intelligent, but obviously inept at socializing. Maybe she tried too quickly to engage him. She considered seeking him out at the orphanage to apologize, but that would require entering the pathetic place, and in Lain's mind it was not worth _that_. So she eventually forgot Tom Riddle, and when time came to return to Hogwarts she was ready to start another exciting year sans surprises.

Lain's mother, Athena, always got excited about the day she returned to school. For Athena, it was as if she was given an exclusive glimpse into an exciting new world, a secret only she was privy to. Lain understood this and never tried to diminish the wonder her mother felt when experiencing the wizarding world. Why take it away from her? Even if Lain was used to everything by now, she could understand her mother's enchantment.

As they walked past the platforms of King's Cross, Lain carrying her school things on a trolley in front of her, she thought about Tom. This surprised her, as she had vowed never to think of him again. If he didn't want to be friends with her, she thought, then she wasn't going to waste her time worrying about it. But there he was, fresh in her mind, spiking her curiosity. When they reached platform 9 she peered around cautiously. Just a few Hogwarts kids she didn't know. Good.

When it was their turn to enter the secret platform, Lain's mother giggled with glee.

"I love this part," she said.

On Platform 9 and ¾ Lain scanned the crowd until she found her best friends.

"Tamara! Julius!"

The boy and girl turned around and smiled when they saw her. Lain gave her mother a quick but emotional goodbye and followed Tamara and Julius onto the train.

Once seated, Lain began to divulge the story of Tom Riddle. She did so cautiously, hoping at least that Tamara and Julius had not heard of him.

"I've heard of him," said Julius. Lain sighed. "Yeah he's supposed to be really smart. But he's got a close circle of friends in Slytherin and those are the only people he talks to."

"I think he's really pompous," said Tamara. "Like, he knows he is smart and it's like he looks down on everyone else. Ugh." She waved her hand.

"Well he seemed pretty nice to me. A little… different. But nice enough to get along with."

"If you say so," said Tamara.

Lain turned her head to look out the window. "I wonder why I've never heard of him. I don't know… I want to be friends with him but it seems like he doesn't need anyone - or at least he thinks he doesn't. I can understand that. Growing up in a place like the orphanage must have made him extremely independent. In a way he's kind of like me. I just wish I knew why he was so reclusive."

Silence. Lain continued, still staring out the window.

"Maybe it's just me, but I think something is really bothering Tom Riddle. If he had someone to talk to – and I doubt he really considers those people in Slytherin his friends – maybe he could feel better or something."

More silence. Then a low voice replied, "interesting psychoanalysis. Do you do that with all of the people you meet?"

Lain whirred around so fast she felt stabs of pain in her neck. "Tom…" Julius and Tamara were staring between Tom and Lain in awe, well aware that Lain had just made a huge fool of herself. "I… I was just… er…"

"Can I talk to you?"

Lain was surprised by this. Importance and immediacy were carried in his words, a tone Lain had come to associate with the intensity of his emotions. She nodded and followed him out of the compartment, glancing back at Julius and Tamara, who still had awe on their faces. She shut the door behind her.

"What is it, Tom?"

He hesitated. "I have a proposition for you." He looked at Lain with intense eyes. She felt she almost couldn't breathe.

"Alright… what is it?"

"You said you were interested in the Dark Arts. I have a group of friends. We like to… ah… test the bounds of magic, as you said. I think you could benefit from joining us."

"A club?" Lain responded.

"Of sorts, yes." said Tom.

Lain was surprised by this. From the passion in his voice it sounded as if Tom was about to reveal to her the secret of life. But a club? "Well," she hesitated. "Sure, I guess. Is it mostly Slytherins?"

"For now," said Tom. "But I bet there are a lot more people interested in the Dark Arts than you think. They're just scared because, like you said, anytime they try to do something innovative with magic they are marked as evil."

"Well, where do we meet?"

Tom slipped Lain a piece of paper and told her the time was 10pm. After hours? It was the first night of school and she already had the chance to get in trouble. But what bothered Lain the most, and what clouded her thoughts throughout the entirety of the Sorting Ceremony that night was how normal, how social Tom had seemed. She watched him sitting at the Slytherin table, surrounded by a large group of what looked more like admirers than friends, talking animatedly. Maybe she had gotten it wrong. Maybe Tom wasn't a social fledgling at all. For some reason, Lain found that this bothered her. Perhaps it was because she found a lot of commonalities between herself and Tom – commonalities she was no longer sure of.

Dust hung in the air of the unused classroom and Lain could see it floating in the beams of light coming from the chandelier. She entered the room cautiously, looking around at the group that was already sitting in a circle of desks in the middle. Tom was not there yet. She quickly took note of the fact that she was not only the single Ravenclaw in the room, she was also the only female. Recognizing no one, Lain began to feel nervous. The boys eyed her with skepticism as she sat down at the far end of the circle of desks.

"Who the hell are you?" one of the boys said, as all of the faces turned to stare at Lain.

"Tom invited me here tonight. We're friends" She held her head aloft as she spoke with mock confidence. The boys snickered.

" 'Friends?'" one of them said, laughing.

Lain was confused. Before she had time to decipher why it would be odd that she was his friend, Tom entered the classroom and took his seat beside her. Two of the boys exchanged the smallest of glances.

"Good evening," said Tom. "I trust you have all done as I asked during the break?"

"Yes" one of them said. He handed over a parchment, which Tom took without looking and put away in his bag.

One of the other boys spoke up, obviously nervous. "I also found out where to get a map of the school from before 1610, which was as you know the earliest map we could find."

"Excellent," said Tom, taking a small piece of parchment from the boy and placing it in front of him on the desk. "Friends, we are well on the way to penetrating the deepest secrets of this castle."

What is this all about? Lain thought. She was a bit disappointed, not only because she didn't know what was going on, but because the group was clearly uninterested in magical discussion. It was obvious that they had some sort of mission. She grew increasingly annoyed as Tom continued to relay plans between different group members.

"Edward, have you been able to find the information on hidden rooms like I asked?"

"No," said the boy named Edward, "it was nowhere to be found. I'm sorry…" The boy had a flicker of fear cross his face.

"We'll deal with it later. No matter. Now, on to the subject of-"

"Excuse me," said Lain, who had finally had enough, "but what in the hell are we talking about?"

The boys glanced nervously at one another as if Lain had committed a blasphemy. Then, all at once, they turned to look at Tom, as if they were unsure of how he would react. It was then that Lain realized these boys were clearly no friends of Tom's. They were more like admiring servants.

Lain was not a servant. She was, however, extremely angry.

"Are you going to tell me what you're doing here or not, Tom?" She fixed her stare directly at him, making a point to keep her voice confident.

Tom seemed unabashed. "We are attempting to learn the secrets of magic, and what better place to do so than in the halls of this most magical of places? Hogwarts is a treasure trove of legends, artifacts, and myths. We are only trying to seek out those things never mentioned in class, never discussed in textbooks. Is that not what you said you were interested in, Lain? 'Expanding the bounds of magic?'" He ended his speech, which was directed more to the group at large than at Lain, with a small smirk.

"Well yes, but I thought we would be-"

"Everyone here is interested in the same thing. We only want to test what can really be done with magic. Hogwarts has a wealth of information hidden in its very walls – spells and enchantments that are only found here, texts so old that only one copy remains forgotten in a library, and things only the founders could have known about. That is, until we came along."

That look – the one Lain associated with his inexplicable passion – had returned to Tom's face. It seemed as if he was yearning to be the bearer of these old secrets, as if they gave him something nothing else could. This made Lain feel unsettled. Something about Tom was bothering her but she couldn't figure out what.

"Alright, what do you want me to do?" she said.

Tom smiled as if victorious. "You can begin research. If you can gain access to the library's restricted section, you can find information about certain events in the castle's history. We need knowledge of these events in order to have any hope of discovering something."

"Fine."

"Good. Then for now, we are done. I will contact you when next we should meet." With that, Tom rose to leave. The others followed suit. Lain sat motionless.


	5. Conflict of Interests

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

IV. Conflict of Interests

It was apparent to Tom that Lain was disappointed with the meeting. Though he was aware of the potency of his leadership, he also knew that the people he surrounded himself with were followers. He could already tell that Lain was not a follower. If he was going to make sure Lain did her part, he had to convince her to trust him. Persuasion was something Tom was learning, and he was coming to realize that he was extremely good at it.

During the remainder of the summer break Tom spent his time shut in his room, absorbing himself in books borrowed from the Hogwarts library. He soon found himself unable to concentrate, however. He was intrigued by Lain's enthusiasm for the Dark Arts. It didn't take long for him to come up with a use for her. The problem was that he could not decide whether to bring her into his small group of friends. Would she understand what they were trying to do? What _he_ was trying to do?

He was determined not to give up on Lain. He knew she was smarter than the others, but she was also an independent spirit, and this spelled trouble for Tom. He had to convince her that she too could benefit from joining his efforts. As the group of Slytherin boys left the room, Tom turned back. Lain was sitting in her seat, her hands in her lap.

"Is there a problem, Lain?"

She jumped. "No," she said, looking away.

"Then you should probably get back-"

"Actually, Tom, I do have a problem." She stood up and walked over to him, stopping only feet away. She stared directly into his eyes, a look of incredulous annoyance on her face. "I want to know what you're up to."

"Are you worried I am breaking the rules?"

"I don't care if _you're_ breaking the rules. _I_ don't want to get in trouble."

"What we are doing would certainly not bode well with the professors. But I think it's worth it."

"Fine. But why won't you tell me your real goal?" She folder her arms in a skeptical way, clearly aware that she was being shunned.

"My real goal? What do you mean?" Tom was worried. He was beginning to think he had underestimated this girl.

"It is obvious that these cronies of yours have no clue what you're trying to do. They admire you so much that they'll do anything you say just to be able to call themselves your friends. Are you really that popular?"

"I doubt it has much to do with popularity, Lain."

"It has everything to do with popularity." She stared at him, almost daring him to lie to her again. Tom didn't know what to say. It was rare that he came across a person that could render him speechless. He looked away. To his utter surprise and disgust, he could feel the heat in his cheeks rising.

"All I'm saying, Tom, is that I wish you would give me the benefit of the doubt. I don't want to be your admirer. I wanted to be your friend. To share my interests with you, interests that I can share with few others, as you know."

Tom was silent for a while. His mind was racing. One side of him screamed to dispose of this girl – to forget her and the plans he had made for her. She was too much of a burden and she wanted more from him than he was willing to give. The other side, a side he rarely listened to, implored him to let her in; to share with her the things that only he knew, the powerful secrets he had discovered on his own. After all, would he ever meet another person that understood what he was trying to do?

"Come with me," he said.

He turned and exited the room. Walking quickly and quietly down the corridor he could hear Lain behind him, struggling to keep up. She did not ask where they were going. In fact, she said nothing even as they reached the entrance to the library, its large wooden doors bolted closed. Tom unhinged the lock with a quick spell and ushered Lain into the dusty, dark hallway.

"I have found something I think you might be interested in," he said quietly. He led the way to the restricted section, maneuvering between desks and shelves with relative ease. Lain, also familiar with the library, followed immediately behind. It took Tom several minutes to locate what he was looking for, and as he searched Lain examined the shelves on her own. Tom knew she was familiar with this section, but he doubted she was as intimate with the pages of these books as he was. Finally he located the small, black text he had been searching for.

"Here," he said, waving Lain over to a desk.

She sat down across from him, looking neither fearful nor annoyed. She was intrigued. Tom held the book up to show her, its ragged cover curling up over his fingers. "This," he said, "is the Biography of Salazar Slytherin, as told by Demetrius Slytherin."

"Who?" said Lain.

"Demetrius Slytherin. Grandson of Salazar Slytherin, powerful dark wizard, and former headmaster of Hogwarts. He was also Salazar's biographer." He handed the book to Lain, who scanned the pages with enthusiasm.

"How did you find this?" she asked.

Tom hesitated. If anyone was able to understand his intense interest in the history of the School, it was Lain. But how did he know that he wasn't making a big mistake telling this girl the secrets of which he was proud and honored to be the sole bearer? He didn't. He decided to share with her piecemeal the information that he had - _testing the waters_, he thought. "I found it by chance." he said. "I thought you would be interested particularly in the part about Slytherin's experiments."

"Experiments?" She scanned the pages and came across a chapter entitled "A Magic Unknown." Tom was silent, giving her time to read. Inwardly he was nervous. His stomach turned over in excitement as he considered the prospect of being able to divulge to Lain all of the secrets he carried. But as if there was a battle going on in his mind, the other side of him - the one that wanted to keep the secrets all for himself – was angered. Why should he let anyone know the information only he was able to understand? What was the benefit of having a companion, a friend, someone he would only become responsible for? It was a burden, and he knew it. Before he could decide what course of action to take, his thoughts were interrupted.

"Immortality." Said Lain.

"What?"

"Immortality. It says here that Slytherin was an integral figure in the early writings on magic and immortality. Obviously this is before the Philosopher's Stone was created, but he seemed to have contributed a considerable amount of knowledge to the subject."

Tom grabbed the book from her and scanned the pages. Sure enough, there was a large section entitled "Slytherin contributes to immortality studies." How had he not seen this before? But he did not get the chance to indulge further in the reading, as Lain yanked the book back from his eager hands.

"I was reading that." The corner of her mouth curled up mischievously in a way that made Tom blush, to his utter disgust. "Anyway, I've studied a lot about immortality. It's always been an interest of mine. You know, elixirs and horcruxes and such, but-"

"Horcruxes?"

Lain ignored him. "But what I'm curious about is why Slytherin was not labeled as a Dark wizard himself. It seems to me he spent his entire life in a relatively comfortable spotlight."

"Not exactly," said Tom. "I know that the founders had a falling out of sorts, particularly during the period immediately after the creation of the School. The rest of the founders remained skeptical about Slytherin's intentions after he left."

Lain shrugged. She perused the rest of the chapter, mentioning certain subjects as she came across them. "It is interesting to me that he was extremely good at finding ways to expand the physical impact of spells."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, take for instance what it says here about destructive spells. Slytherin found a way to widen the surface area of the spells' effects, basically destroying more in one hit."

Tom and Lain remained in the library until the sky turned a pale pink, discussing the different innovations of magic conceived by Salazar Slytherin. Not once did Tom feel the nervousness he suffered earlier. He remained completely enthralled in their discussion, increasingly aware of the comfort that Lain's presence provided him.


	6. The Unfairness of It All

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

V. The Unfairness of It All

Tamara Eldenbaum was beautiful - and she knew it. Privileged, she grew up never wanting for anything. Since early childhood her confidence was reinforced by her admiring parents, who seemed almost surprised by their luck in having such a beautiful daughter. Most importantly, her family was pure; a tradition that stretched back centuries. Her politically influential father was proud to announce that his daughter was sorted into Slytherin House, just as he was, and was sure to follow in his footsteps at the Ministry.

But Tamara wanted something else. She wanted a husband – a powerful husband – for which she could be an equally powerful wife. He should match her beauty and her purity in a way no one else can. She dreamed often of the perfect wedding to the perfect man – a large, Victorian affair with hundreds of guests and thousands of flowers. The man himself mattered little to her at first, and she focused clearly on wedding details, dresses, and children. But as she grew older, Tamara began to think deeply about the kind of man she would want to marry.

He had to be powerful. In what way she didn't really know. But power and purity ran in her family and she was not willing to accept anything less, especially when it came to marriage.

When she entered Hogwarts Tamara made quick friends with all of the most influential Slytherins she could wrap her ego around – all except one. She made other friends too; Lain, who was a Ravenclaw, was the smartest in the year (or so she thought) and was useful to have around when homework was due. Julius was handsome and popular, even if he was a Hufflepuff. She never really cared to learn much more about them besides what she already knew which was, to her, all that mattered. They were a trio, but it was obvious to many that Tamara had too much ambition to be friends with them much longer.

She had even accumulated admirers of her own – younger Slytherins that were impressed with her popularity and her ability to know everyone that was important.

The only person she could not influence or impress in any way was Tom Riddle. He did not take notice of her once in the first four years of their schooling. This infuriated Tamara because, on top of it all, he was the most handsome person in the school, even more handsome than Julius. As they reached their fourth year, Tom was quickly gaining notoriety as the most intelligent and popular boy in their class, and it was almost certain that he would make Prefect next year.

It became Tamara's mission over the summer to attract Tom Riddle to her, _if it's the last thing I do,_ she thought. Even Slughorn, head of Slytherin House, was impressed with Tom's school performance and his ability to persuade people with ease. There were so many girls that wanted Riddle to notice them that Tamara was sure it would be her hardest project yet. But her record was perfect. She was only in fourth year and had managed to date every popular boy in Slytherin (though, she remembered with disgust, it was _Lain_ who warned her about the whispers that she was a slut).

Lain: the problem that should not have been a problem. After months of trying to gain Riddle's attention, of trying to get him even to look at her, she faced failure after failure. Suddenly, and seemingly without reason, the only thing that interested Tom Riddle was Lain. After plotting all summer different ways to influence him, she found him entering her compartment on the train, asking to speak with Lain. Despite Tamara's initial attempts to convince Lain of Tom's arrogance, the foolish Ravenclaw still found interest in him. After that, they spent days together pouring over books and sneaking into the library whenever they could.

Whispers flew around the school about the two, but Tamara knew neither of them saw anything romantic in their time together. She knew because she was smart enough to have already obtained the position of Lain's "best friend," a post from which she could closely observe their communications and hear directly from the horse's mouth (_such a horse_, Tamara thought).

The year was flying by fast, and finally, in December, Tamara saw her chance. As more and more Slytherins became intertwined in the circle that surrounded Tom Riddle, they began to talk. They talked about magical strength, about pure blood and filth. If there was one thing Tamara could flaunt, it was her genealogy. She tried every form of flattery, every type of persuasion she knew to get in with Riddle's friends, eventually being invited to one of their secret meetings. She was as close as she had ever been to Tom Riddle. It was her chance.

She was sure that Lain would never be invited to _these_ meetings, even if she still met with Tom on her own. She knew Lain was a mudblood, and therefore the enemy. She was part of the _problem_. The group of Slytherins and Tamara now had a shared goal.

She began slowly to distance herself from Lain and Julius, choosing her words and actions carefully so as to maintain ties with them (she still had Lain's confidence). Though Lain protested often, complaining of the ridiculousness of purity and magical inheritance, Tamara ignored her. Sometimes they fought about it, but Tamara always explained to Lain that she could never understand. Cleverly, Tamara tried to convince Lain that Tom was just as obsessed with pure blood as she was. If she could get Lain to hate Tom, it would be easier to separate them permanently. Then her path would be clear.

The only problem was that she knew almost as little about Tom as she did about Lain. He wasn't one for flaunting his familial history. He was always very focused, and at the gatherings she attended she found it nearly impossible to get him away from his friends (who, she thought, were more like admirers) or to get him to talk about anything else besides the Dark Arts.

One day she entered the Great Hall to discover that Lain was extremely distraught. Though this secretly filled her with joy, she sauntered over to the Ravenclaw table where Lain sat and asked what was wrong in her most deeply concerned voice.

"Nothing," said Lain.

"You can tell me, Lain. You know you can talk to me about anything."

To Tamara's surprise, Lain laughed hysterically. She sounded almost mad. "Don't be a fool, Tamara. Don't think I haven't noticed your recent and convenient absence. If you don't want to be my friend then fine. But don't waste my time with your pathetic attempts at feigned sincerity."

Utterly stunned, Tamara could only follow Lain with her eyes as she stood up and stormed out of the Great Hall. _Damn Ravenclaws,_ she thought. Lain's cleverness annoyed her. Lain's _everything_ annoyed her. And to her complete disgust and anger, she saw Tom get up out of his seat and follow Lain out of the Great Hall.

_NO._

She ran out behind him, ignoring the stares that followed her. He was standing in front of the wide oak front-doors, searching up and down the hallway. "Have you seen Lain?" he asked her.

"Yes we're about to have a chat. Don't worry, I'll see what's wrong with her," she said in her most feminine voice. She ran to the closest girls' bathroom, and luckily Lain was there, sitting in the corner on the floor, staring blankly ahead. "What is up with you?" Tamara asked, eager to get back outside and take advantage of Tom's presence.

"Leave me alone."

"No."

"I swear to God, Tamara, if you don't leave me alone - "

"You'll what? Scream at me? You don't scare me, Lain. I know what you're trying to do. Everyone else is doing it too."

Lain turned to look at Tamara, confusion on her face. "Doing what?"

"You know what," said Tamara. "Trying to get with Riddle."

"_What?_ So _that's _what this is about? I assure you, Tamara, I have no interest in Tom Riddle. Have him if you can get him. Good luck."

"You're just saying that. You spend all your time with him!"

"Actually I see him no more than once a week, and that's usually coincidence. But I don't need to explain myself to you" said Lain, standing up.

"You think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"I'm warning you, Tamara, don't make me angry."

"Oh-ho! I'm so scared."

"Don't - "

"Shut up you filthy mudblood."

In the silence that followed, everything in the bathroom began to shake. Tamara looked around. "What is that?" she asked. The room shook more violently, and she could hear the sinks begin to crack. She looked at Lain, who was standing still, her face full of anger, her breathing heavy.

"I told you not to make me mad," she said.


	7. The Problem

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

VI. The Problem

There was a scream from inside the bathroom.

Tom waited nervously, wondering what could possibly be going on. He wasn't sure why he was there; nor did he understand why he cared that Lain was angry. He didn't have time to waste on one person who disagreed with him, not when he had such a large group of followers who hung on his every word.

Suddenly, Tamara exited the bathroom, walking backwards out the door, a look of horror on her face. She stumbled back blindly until she hit the opposite wall. Her breathing was heavy and she did not take her eyes away from the bathroom door.

"What happened?" Tom asked. But Tamara was unresponsive. She hesitated for a second, then ran flat out down the hallway. Tom turned back toward the bathroom, approaching the door slowly. When he entered, the first thing he noticed was that the place was an utter mess. Shards of ceramic were scattered on the floor and water spurted from twisted pipes that looked as if they had been ripped out of the wall by force.

Stepping carefully over a pile of splintered wood that was once a stall door, he searched for any sign of Lain. It took him several minutes to find her huddled in a corner, her knees pulled up to her chest. She stared straight ahead and her face was utterly blank.

"Lain?"

No response.

"Lain, what happened?"

Silence. Minutes passed. Then, as if waking up from a trance, Lain stood up and glanced briefly around her. She turned to Tom.

"This is a girl's bathroom."

"I heard screams," said Tom.

"This is a _girl's_ bathroom." Lain repeated.

She was surrounded by a scene of destruction and _this_ was her response? "Tell me what happened." Tom tried to sound as forceful as he could, but to no avail.

Lain headed for the door. As she exited the scene, she turned back to him, a smile on her face. "I got angry," she said, as if it were a clever joke.

No matter how he analyzed the situation, only one conclusion seemed to scream at him from the events of that evening: Lain was different. He knew that it was common for younger witches and wizards to lose control of their magical abilities, lacking the training required to wield their power. But Lain was almost fifteen, and there was no reason why she shouldn't be able to do so. _Unless, _Tom thought, _there was something else about her. _Perhaps Lain possessed some power that he was not yet aware of.

He had to find out. It was by now clear to him that he was perhaps the most powerful, most intelligent wizard in the school. He wasn't about to be outshone by a mudblood. _Mudblood_, he thought. It was the first time he had ever considered Lain to be one. Her cleverness and intelligence placed her in a category in his mind that did not include mudbloods and filth. It was all very confusing. The rhetoric about pure blood and magical heritage was not his, but he followed it easily enough. It was the mark of a decent Slytherin. Now, he couldn't possibly be seen with such a person and expect to retain his popularity. It was for this reason that he and Lain began to argue earlier that day.

She didn't seem to care whether or not he saw her as a mudblood. What she complained about was that Tom himself was being a hypocrite. He admitted inwardly that he revealed too much information to her in their first weeks of friendship: she knew that he was oblivious to his familial history. She also knew it disgusted him to think he might be a mudblood too.

"It is completely ridiculous that you are preaching a message of purity when you know perfectly well that you could be just as filthy as I am," she had said.

Tom hesitated, allowing the anger bubbling up inside him to subside. "We only talk about these things in passing. There is no 'message,' Lain. I am not trying to gain followers. It's not even my idea"

"But followers are what you have. Look at the way they stare at you, the way they hang on your every word. You and I both know they admire you, and being a part of your circle of friends undoubtedly has its benefits. Besides, every ideology needs a leader"

"What do you mean?" Tom asked.

"Oh forget it." And with that, Lain left the library in a huff, while Tom remained, fighting the urge to curse her horribly as she turned away.

He really did have to work on his intimidation skills. Then again, he seemed to be able to charm everyone else in the school, including the teachers. Why not Lain? Why was she always the exception?

There were more important things to worry about. Finally, after several months of research, Tom believed he had discovered vital information about one of the most important secrets Hogwarts had. On his first day in Slytherin, one of the prefects (undoubtedly trying to impress and intimidate the first years) told the story of the Chamber of Secrets. Salazar Slytherin, the champion of purity and distinction, had had a falling out with the rest of the founders. After the argument, which supposedly ended in a grand duel between himself and Gryffindor, Slytherin was forced to leave the school. Before he did he managed to build for himself a secret room somewhere in the castle – a room that contained the means by which he hoped to purge the school of all those he considered unworthy of magic.

Despite it being only a legend, Tom was determined to find this room. He felt a similarity between himself and Slytherin: only weeks after his first day he discovered Slytherin's talent for talking to snakes – one which he of course shared, along with the founder's fascination for the Dark Arts.

There was one problem: the only person supposedly able to open the Chamber was Slytherin's heir. Before he could locate the place he must first discover the heir, if one existed. It was to this end that he had his closest friends working tirelessly through old books and accounts of the school's past. They were there, he knew, only because he was popular (and as he thought this, he suddenly understood Lain's earlier comments), but he figured they might as well be put to use. He told them that they were discovering a great secret together, one that only those of the purest nobility would understand. This seemed to convince them. Lain had stopped showing up to meetings in November.

The whole affair got him thinking about his own family. He still did not know anything about his father, who he assumed was a wizard, seeing as how his mother was weak enough to succumb to death so early. He wondered if the man was still alive. Despite secret wishes that his father was an extremely powerful and influential figure in the Wizarding World, Tom carried a deep hatred for him. If he was still alive, where was he? Why did he not want to meet his own son? How could he abandon –

It wasn't important.

Tom thought again of the work he had his friends doing. In reality, he had no _real_ friends. The closest to such a thing was Lain (_there she is again,_ he would often think with annoyance), and he had to shake her as soon as possible. How to do it? He thought back to his younger days at the orphanage, when a simple and brief stint of magic had all of his enemies cowering in fear. Fear – that was it. The most powerful, most useful of all weapons in his personality arsenal, fear was undoubtedly the only way he could get rid of Lain.

But without warning, his mind's eye flickered through scenes of the past four months – time which he and Lain had spent together. It was the only time he felt he could ever discuss with anyone the things that he dreamed up. It was comforting, in a way.

Now he was disgusted. He had to get rid of this mudblood before she caused him any more grief.

Mudblood. _But she is just like me,_ one half of him pleaded. _No,_ the other half screamed. _She is filth. She is dangerous. _

She was definitely a problem.


	8. Power Struggle

[disclaimer] I don't own anything except Lain. All else © JKR

VII. Power Struggle

Lain was mad.

No, she was pissed off.

It wasn't that her supposed best friend had it out for her, and had begun to spread horrible rumors about her non-existent sex life to the entire school.

It wasn't that her friendship with Tom was de facto over, seeing as he found her to be more disgusting than a plate of dragon dung.

What pissed Lain off was that the stolid, crotchety old Professor Binns, History of Magic professor and connoisseur of goblin rebellions, had given her a failing grade in her most recent essay. The topic was "Early Theories of Magic: Egypt to Persia." Lain didn't understand how her thesis, which described the role and designation of "gods" in early civilization to be highly influenced by the actions of early wizarding communities, could have possibly been wrong.

She thought she had researched all she could on the subject. It was clear to her that the position of "god" in early human history was not only given to wizards who were publicly known (as the textbook claimed), but to particularly powerful wizards that could harness a strong following in their community through intimidation and respect.

No, said Binns. This was wrong. A "god" in early times was simply another name for any wizard. There was no other reason for the name other than the fact that early wizarding groups were almost always revered.

A week after her paper was returned, Lain was dying to bring the subject up in class. But Professor Binns wasn't one for in-class discussion. In fact, every single class she had ever had with Binns consisted of an hour-and-a-half of droning on about whatever particular topic he chose, in no particular order, with no particular emphasis. Why not shake things up? She had nothing else going for her at the moment, except, perhaps, her recent achievement in transfiguration class.

"Professor," Lain said one Wednesday, interrupting the teacher's long-winded explanation of Goblin Conspiracies and the Papacy.

He almost didn't notice her, except that her hand was in the air and she was waving it wildly, almost mockingly. "Yes?" he said after a few moments' hesitation.

"Sir, I was wondering if we could go back to the topic of Egypt and Persia – about gods?"

"Oh, well, I suppose so. Did you have a question?"

"Yes, sir. I was wondering why it was unreasonable to say that wizards of that age who were powerful enough to be labeled "gods" in the muggle community could not be considered exceptional in their own right?"

"Well I believe, Miss Mollofay, that at the time, any person with super-human ability was labeled special on any account, whether or not they would have been deemed special in the wizarding world."

"It's 'Dolloway.' And sir, wouldn't you say that gods, particularly in these two civilizations, held a place of immense power? Wasn't religion a most fundamental aspect of society? Wouldn't these wizards have been some kind of leaders?"

Professor Binns was silent for a while, studying Lain from his large, plush chair. He was somewhat impressed, in an uninterested sort of way. After a while he said, "are you suggesting that these wizards were exceptional even to us?"

Lain hesitated.

"Please, sir, if I might."

It was Tom. Lain rolled her eyes. She just _had_ to have History with the Slytherins.

"I believe that Lain has a point. But I think that muggles at the time were so backward that they would have been unable to distinguish between a mediocre wizard who could scare them and an extremely powerful wizard who could do the same."

Lain sighed. "And yet," she argued, "history tells us of ancient gods with incredible powers and influence felt across the world – and they do not seem to me to be mediocre to any degree." She continued to address Professor Binns, ignoring Tom's annoying stare.

"Perhaps," said Tom, "but if a wizard was going to 'rule'" (he put strong emphasis on the word), "he surely wouldn't have needed much power in the first place. Too much power and he would have undoubtedly been labeled as 'evil.'"

Now Lain was looking directly at Tom. "It might only take a little bit of magic to gain power over muggles, Riddle, but I think that if you look at history, these figures were more than kings and queens. They were purported to have control over the whole of the earth – the weather, animals, sky, sun, and humanity. Many of them were feared not because they could make things move or transform them or make them disappear, but because their power was so frightening, so overwhelming that muggles had no choice _but_ to worship them."

"And it's a shame they stopped."

Silence filled the room. Lain knew that most of the class hadn't the faintest idea what she and Tom were arguing about, and they were even less aware of the silent battle that was going on between them. It was a battle of wits, and Lain was not sure at all if she was winning. She gave Tom the most disgusted, most hateful sneer she could muster and looked away. Without provocation, Binns continued his previous lecture, the argument completely abandoned.

-------

Making her way into the Great Hall Lain was fully aware that Tamara's eyes were boring into her back. The girl was like a hawk, watching her every move. She gave up caring when one day she walked up behind Tamara meaning to give her first congenial hello in weeks, when instead she overheard the girl talking about an incredibly licentious weekend Lain had apparently experienced at Hogsmeade.

"_Really?_" she had said when Tamara paused, causing her to jump. "I don't remember _that_."

"Lain! I- I um…."

"It's okay, Tamara. I understand if you're a bit jealous. I do get a lot of action, according to you. Don't worry, someone will notice you someday." Lain smiled and bounded down the hall like a little girl. She was slowly beginning to realize that the only person she could trust was herself.

The last weeks of school before Christmas break were proving to be miserable. Julius was off with his latest girlfriend, a bubbly and curvy Gryffindor that could kiss better than she could form sentences, and Lain's last remnant of a social life was gone. She considered perhaps joining a club, but her brief experience in Tom's gothic circle of friends turned her off to the idea. Instead, she decided to jump on another opportunity that would, if nothing else, keep her busy.

In the second week of December a notice showed up on the board in the Ravenclaw common room. It was large, colorful, and hard to miss.

"Come to the Hogwarts WINTER BALL!  
December 17th in the Great Hall!  
Music, Dancing, and Dinner for all!  
Except if you're too small…*  
*fourth years and above only!

Anyone interested in joining the Ball Planning Committee, see Professor Slughorn before 10 December."

_A ball?_ thought Lain. _Why the hell not?_ Maybe it would keep her busy enough that she wouldn't notice how devoid of activity her social life was.

After Potions that Wednesday Lain held back to speak to Slughorn. He was a burly, short man and she thought he looked rather like a teddy-bear. She imagined him with a stubby tail and two stubby round ears and let out a small giggle before she made her presence known.

"Sir?"

"Hmm?" He turned around, quickly stuffing a yellowish candy in his mouth. "Ah Lain!" he said after swallowing painfully. "I didn't get a chance to tell you, but your work on the bonus project was superb. _Amortentia!_ Incredibly complicated!"

"Thank you sir. Actually I was wondering if I could join the Winter Ball Committee."

Slughorn tilted his head briefly, considering her. "You know, no one else has come to me yet. I'm glad you're here." He rounded the corner of his desk, opened a bottom drawer, and pulled out a thick folder with papers of all sizes and colors sticking out the sides. "Here's what we have so far. Amount of seats, decoration details, and the like. See what you make of it." He handed the folder to her.

"Um, thank you sir. I'll take a look at it tonight." She stuffed the folder in her bag and turned to go.

"Oh, and Lain?"

"Yes, sir?"

"We'll need entertainment. A musical act. Every good ball has one. It'll be your job to find one!"

"Yes, sir." She exited the room.


End file.
